Post by Brynjar on Jul 26, 2015 20:51:06 GMT
Age:
37
Nationality:
Nord
Hair:
Jet Black
Eyes:
Greenish-Brown
Facial Markings:
Small scar on left cheek.
Skin Color:
Pale, Slightly Tanned.
Height:
6'3
Weight:
175
Build:
Tall and strong but on the slender side.
Body Markings:
Medium sized tattoo of Raven on back.
Interests:
Poetry, Justice, Order, Crafting, Archery.
Dislikes:
Outlaws and Brigands. Anyone who wishes to do harm unto innocent people and friends.
Strengths:
Archery and Shield-Wall combat, Battle strategy.
Weaknesses: Heavy melee combat, being ambushed.
Skills:
Archery, food making, politics, crafting.
Fears:
Overwhelming odds, loss of friends in battle and mythical creatures such as Trolls and Dragons.
Profession:
Archer
Backround/History:
Growing up in Sargoth, Brynjar always had a love for adventure. His family always supported him, his father an Earl and his mother a shield-maiden. His father owned many Fiefs and his hall was most Grand, rivaling that of King Ragnar himself. The long table made from the finest oak, the chairs polished to where not a single splinter could be found. His father's axe and shield Hung above the mighty throne. Both proud warriors, His Mother and Father have defended their land on more than one occasion. His brother, Bjern, was only 18 when he died. He was killed in a raid conducted by a band of Khergit Horsemen. Brynjar always looked up to his brother, they always were around each other, inseparable...This loss affected Brynjar heavily, and haunts him to this day. When he was only 17 he was taken on his first raid, which he came out of practically unscathed. He then became infatuated with Archery, and was still excellent with an axe and shield. He also became very philosophical, discussing ideas that many would say are to complex to ponder. In his travels as a young man, he came upon the realm of Calradia and he continues to live and work in this realm. He holds himself as an archer but is able to work as hard as any serf to earn coin to afford the equipment he needs in battle. This may seem strange to most, since Nords see themselves above "Working in the dirt" so-to-speak but his father was a humble man and a farmer before his Earlship, so he taught Brynjar how to work and Brynjar eventually came to know work as character-building and profitable in more ways then one. His demeanor is welcoming but cautious and is known to be a voice of reason in most situations. In his travels, he happened upon a village in western Swadia, he was doing some mercenary work for a caravan at the time and while in the market buying some dried apples for the journey ahead, he noticed a girl, her long Blonde hair braided and her clothes slightly stained with grapes showed she was the daughter of a winemaker. Brynjar couldn't help himself. He immediately walked over to the girl, but tripped over a small piglet that was crossing his path. Brynjar fell in the mud, and to his dismay he looked up to see the girl laughing at him, but blushing as well. She offered him her hand and Brynjar thanked her. "Hello mi'Lord." She said. Brynjar, wildly embarrassed, said, "That didn't go as well as I thought it would." She laughed. After awhile she revealed her name to be Alva, the daughter of Volrund, a renown Winemaker. They courted for 2 years until Brynjar finally got enough money to buy her a ring, the ring he would use to propose to her. After their wedding they moved to a small fishing town outside of Sargoth and had a boy named Falk. 4 years after Falk's birth, Brynjar decided to travel to find better work to support his family. He traveled to a small Valley called, "The Valley of Swamps". There he worked as a winemaker, a trade he learned from Alva's father, and he ran a tavern. He then became a guard of a small town known as Glunmar Village. One day a tussle between the town's guard and The Valley Watch ended up with him killing a man and wounding another. The evidence was shaky at best, but the punishment was clearer than a spring's waters....Death. He awaited his punishment, knowing full well that there was no way out. He made peace with himself and his actions. When asked if he wanted last rights he said, "Just bury me with a nice song." The hour arrived, they walked him to cliff near the sea, an ocean he was very familiar with greeted him with a cool gust of wind. He was born by it, so it seemed fit he should die by it. The crossbow's string strained when pulled back, the breeze cooled him, the guards watched on intently, where most men would flinch, he sat there, unwavering. He was ready for Death's cool embrace. Time slowed. The lever was pulled. The bolt was loosed. The deed was done. He was given his wish, buried on a small slope overlooking the Bay of New Zendar, they laid him in the ground while someone sang "A Walking Song". Every year his wife makes the journey to visit her Husband's grave.....So ends the tale of Brynjar Klasson...
"A Walking Song" Lyrics
Home is behind
The world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow
To the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall
Fade
Equipment: *Varying Equipment depending upon current location and situation* Leather armor, Leather gloves, Sandals, Footman Helmet, Huscarl Round Shield, Long Bow, One Handed Axe, Arrows.
37
Nationality:
Nord
Hair:
Jet Black
Eyes:
Greenish-Brown
Facial Markings:
Small scar on left cheek.
Skin Color:
Pale, Slightly Tanned.
Height:
6'3
Weight:
175
Build:
Tall and strong but on the slender side.
Body Markings:
Medium sized tattoo of Raven on back.
Interests:
Poetry, Justice, Order, Crafting, Archery.
Dislikes:
Outlaws and Brigands. Anyone who wishes to do harm unto innocent people and friends.
Strengths:
Archery and Shield-Wall combat, Battle strategy.
Weaknesses: Heavy melee combat, being ambushed.
Skills:
Archery, food making, politics, crafting.
Fears:
Overwhelming odds, loss of friends in battle and mythical creatures such as Trolls and Dragons.
Profession:
Archer
Backround/History:
Growing up in Sargoth, Brynjar always had a love for adventure. His family always supported him, his father an Earl and his mother a shield-maiden. His father owned many Fiefs and his hall was most Grand, rivaling that of King Ragnar himself. The long table made from the finest oak, the chairs polished to where not a single splinter could be found. His father's axe and shield Hung above the mighty throne. Both proud warriors, His Mother and Father have defended their land on more than one occasion. His brother, Bjern, was only 18 when he died. He was killed in a raid conducted by a band of Khergit Horsemen. Brynjar always looked up to his brother, they always were around each other, inseparable...This loss affected Brynjar heavily, and haunts him to this day. When he was only 17 he was taken on his first raid, which he came out of practically unscathed. He then became infatuated with Archery, and was still excellent with an axe and shield. He also became very philosophical, discussing ideas that many would say are to complex to ponder. In his travels as a young man, he came upon the realm of Calradia and he continues to live and work in this realm. He holds himself as an archer but is able to work as hard as any serf to earn coin to afford the equipment he needs in battle. This may seem strange to most, since Nords see themselves above "Working in the dirt" so-to-speak but his father was a humble man and a farmer before his Earlship, so he taught Brynjar how to work and Brynjar eventually came to know work as character-building and profitable in more ways then one. His demeanor is welcoming but cautious and is known to be a voice of reason in most situations. In his travels, he happened upon a village in western Swadia, he was doing some mercenary work for a caravan at the time and while in the market buying some dried apples for the journey ahead, he noticed a girl, her long Blonde hair braided and her clothes slightly stained with grapes showed she was the daughter of a winemaker. Brynjar couldn't help himself. He immediately walked over to the girl, but tripped over a small piglet that was crossing his path. Brynjar fell in the mud, and to his dismay he looked up to see the girl laughing at him, but blushing as well. She offered him her hand and Brynjar thanked her. "Hello mi'Lord." She said. Brynjar, wildly embarrassed, said, "That didn't go as well as I thought it would." She laughed. After awhile she revealed her name to be Alva, the daughter of Volrund, a renown Winemaker. They courted for 2 years until Brynjar finally got enough money to buy her a ring, the ring he would use to propose to her. After their wedding they moved to a small fishing town outside of Sargoth and had a boy named Falk. 4 years after Falk's birth, Brynjar decided to travel to find better work to support his family. He traveled to a small Valley called, "The Valley of Swamps". There he worked as a winemaker, a trade he learned from Alva's father, and he ran a tavern. He then became a guard of a small town known as Glunmar Village. One day a tussle between the town's guard and The Valley Watch ended up with him killing a man and wounding another. The evidence was shaky at best, but the punishment was clearer than a spring's waters....Death. He awaited his punishment, knowing full well that there was no way out. He made peace with himself and his actions. When asked if he wanted last rights he said, "Just bury me with a nice song." The hour arrived, they walked him to cliff near the sea, an ocean he was very familiar with greeted him with a cool gust of wind. He was born by it, so it seemed fit he should die by it. The crossbow's string strained when pulled back, the breeze cooled him, the guards watched on intently, where most men would flinch, he sat there, unwavering. He was ready for Death's cool embrace. Time slowed. The lever was pulled. The bolt was loosed. The deed was done. He was given his wish, buried on a small slope overlooking the Bay of New Zendar, they laid him in the ground while someone sang "A Walking Song". Every year his wife makes the journey to visit her Husband's grave.....So ends the tale of Brynjar Klasson...
"A Walking Song" Lyrics
Home is behind
The world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow
To the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall
Fade
Equipment: *Varying Equipment depending upon current location and situation* Leather armor, Leather gloves, Sandals, Footman Helmet, Huscarl Round Shield, Long Bow, One Handed Axe, Arrows.